


Echo

by Esoter



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esoter/pseuds/Esoter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxas is in love with Sora, and he's not going to allow the fact that they're brothers stop him. Living in near isolation with his brother and his mother (his father largely absentee), Roxas decides to work a grand design to ensnare his brother in a trap of love. But his mother, the savy poet, endeavors to separate the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

Prelude

 

My mother and father were deliberate in choosing the location of our house. It existed separately from the rest of Twilight Town, nestled away in the bulking trees. Bowers and shadows hid our house from the sight of men. Mother liked seclusion, and Father loved Mother.

 

It was a comfortable existence, and very consistently wet. Though it rained no more in Twilight Town than anywhere else, the leaves protected the wetness around our house from the sun’s rays. They protected us as well, and the skin of my family became paler and paler with each passing year. When we were younger, Sora would like to play Vampire, and when he was decked in his fake silvery fangs, and his magnificent cape, he’d look the part. I would be more than willing to have my neck bitten by him.

 

Mother thought we were adorable. She always seemed to think that, thanking us that we never fought like her and her brother did. I used to think it was odd that she and her brother fought. Why would siblings fight? Siblings were the best friends you’d ever have.

 

Tucked away as we were, there were precious few others to play with. Sure at school, Sora would go off and play with the other kids a recess while I sat and read, but we’d never actually invite them over. I think our parents were relieved by that. Father was constantly traveling, and when he was home he’d still be working. Sora used to get very angry at him for it, and demand he play Knights and Dragon with us. We had wooden toy swords that I’m sure hurt him in retrospect, but we hit him all the same. He just laughed, a strong man.

 

Mother frequently left herself, but for her it was to go on walks through the woods or to buy herbs and incense from the next town over. The cafes were a frequent haunt of hers, she’d write poetry there. She never had the time to babysit us or other kids from school. Though once in a great while, she’d read her poetry to us. There was one she wrote called _Motherhood_ that I simply loved.

 

So Sora and I were largely left up to our own devices. We had all of our house, and all of the forest around it to discover. And when the parts we discovered began to bore us, as novelty cannot stimulate forever, we filled the nooks and crannies with ourselves.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

We were beset on all sides. Monsters great and small had invaded our castle. Sora and I were the only ones left to hold down the fort. Mother was off visiting another castle, and Father was off fighting another war.

 

We played this way even at 12 years of age. As the other kids at school were putting aside their old toys and tricks for new toys and tricks, Sora and I remained firmly in our world. The chair was still a wide-mouthed monstrosity that sought to eat us up (and served, incidentally, as the place our father would send us for time out), and our wooden swords were still finely sharpened steel. We beat that chair to hell, and I’m not sorry.

  
Then we ran through the house, avoiding flying creatures that would swoop down on us at strange intervals, until we hid underneath the table. Sora was actually shaking, scared of the monsters that his imagination had conjured. He was the imaginative one, and would describe the creatures we’d fight. I, however, would have to protect him from them. When I saw him going too far, I’d pull him into my arms and whisper that it was all right. The monsters weren’t real, and what wasn’t real couldn’t get him. Sometimes he’d even cry. When that happened, we would stop playing for the day.

 

But I’d write down where we left off, not missing a detail, and the next day we’d pick up our wooden swords and start again. You may think it strange that what made him so sad he so willingly did again, and you may think it was cruel of me to let him. My mother occasionally commented on this herself, but I only told her that we felt it was our duty to finish what we started.

 

What I couldn’t articulate then, I can easily articulate now. We felt it was our duty to confront those demons. When our imaginary allies died, it was our duty to grieve, and if we had fought ourselves into a corner, it was our duty to die. These ideas had come from me, Sora always wanted to pull a magic sword out of nowhere and slay the great beasts. But I reeled him in, and made sure that our universes had an internal logic. How else could I justify playing those games? You may call it pragmatism, but I call it realism.

 

Sir Roxas and Sir Sora were left at the driveway’s entrance, though. We learned at a young age that other kids didn’t want to play in our world. When we were in second grade, a boy named Axel laughed at us and said that his bomb would kill us before we could pull out our swords. There wasn’t any second grade logic in the world that could have saved me from that. Yes, when we’d try to bring others into our lives, they’d bring their bombs with them. Imaginary bombs, and verbal alike.

 

I hated the girls, a regular sexist I was. But Sora liked a girl named Kairi that gave him food at lunch once, and he wanted her to be the princess we had to save. She told him to kiss her then, but he said no. He wasn’t that kind of knight, he would only fight the monsters for her. She pouted and said our game was stupid. Sora was dejected for days.

 

Those idiots never understood us. Not that I’m under any delusions of superiority or uniqueness, but we were just enough off the beaten trail, and in just the right ways, so that nobody liked us. By the time we were 12, we were fed up with it all, and had receded entirely into ourselves.

 

We had started to walk out on the town with each other at that age. We’d sometimes see movies, and we were able to convince the ticket booth operator to let us into the PG-13 movies, a damned sin at our Godless house. The woman at the booth, an elderly woman with a healthy distaste for helicopter parenting, loved that we were allowed to roam on our own.

 

“It’s so wonderful,” she’d always say. It was boring to hear her on and on all the time about how Sora and I lived like it was back in the good old days, but we listened so that she’d give us the good tickets. She even snuck us into an R-rated movie on occasion. I loved horror movies because Sora would freak out and I’d have to hold him. We’d sit in the back so we wouldn’t get strange looks.

 

One of the best things about Sora being scared and holding him was his smell. I always loved his smell. Much more willing to get dirty than I was, he was usually earthy. I would scrub myself in the shower with the organic soap mother would bring home, whereas Sora would only rinse off. He didn’t smell as herbal as I and the rest of our house did, he just smelled like Sora.

 

It was in this theater that I made my choice, the choice which isolated us forever. I saw on the screen, over and over, the Man kissing the Woman. I had even seen it at school a few times, and once I saw a girl kissing a girl. That was when I resolved to kiss Sora.

 

Sitting in that theatre was near torture for me. I knew Sora would need to see it till the end, lest the fear stay with him at night, but my lips had begun to tingle with anticipation. I stared at Sora staring at the screen. His blue eyes struck me as they never had before, and the curves of his cheeks as illuminated by the alternating light of the movie screen awoke a longing in me.

 

I raised my hand up his body, chest, and neck, and I cupped his cheek. “You’re pretty, Sora,” I said. I felt his cheek warm in my hand, and the light revealed a redness on his face.

 

“T-thanks,” he said. His eyes glazed over after that, and I knew that he wasn’t watching the movie anymore. But that was fine, so long as we stayed for the entire time he would be safe at night from the fear. It wasn’t the watching itself, I discovered, but the act of ending that comforted Sora. He like things that ended. Considering that only made me want to kiss him more.

 

But Sora wanted to stroll through the town after the movie. I urged him to go back. He looked torn, it wasn’t often that I asked something of him. I was perfectly content to follow his lead. But he had his mind set on town. He knew the secret to getting me to abide by his whim. “Sea-salt ice cream?”

 

I was immediately convinced, not only for the fact that sea-salt ice cream was my favorite thing to eat, but also because I had a wicked idea. I liked my lips. “Sure, I could go for some ice cream. But let’s save some money tonight, we only have to get one.”

 

Sora considered that for a moment. “But we have allowance money for two.”

 

“And we can spend that on something else,” I said. “Maybe another movie. Or whatever you want. We just need a taste.” He considered for a moment, but ultimately agreed. What a wicked thing I was.

 

The owner of the Ice Cream shop loved us as well. What we lacked in sociability with children our age, we more than made up for in adult approval. “Ah,” he said in his deep, sagely voice. “Sora and Roxas, my favorite customers.” He sat in a chair behind a counter, a book in hand. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him without one. He placed the book, _The Descent of Man_ on the counter. Once he had been a college professor, he told me, but in his age he retired to the warmest place he could stand. Twilight Town didn’t change much from winter to summer, and he said that was perfect temperature for an old man.

 

“One Sea-Salt ice cream!” Sora said, slapping the money on the counter.

 

“Only one? You boys usually buy two. It’s the only sale I can count on,” he laughed gently. “Are you saving for something?” Sora affirmed. “What, if I may ask?”

 

“Nothing special,” I interjected. “We just want to save our money in case anything comes up. Maybe we can see another movie or something.” I wasn’t the best liar, and I’m sure that Ansem detected something strange in my tone. But, ever the gentleman, I’m sure he thought nothing of it.

 

“Smart spending, my boys,” He said. I thought that he must have realized that since the idea came from me, there was no way he could saw us to buy a second. It was Sora’s whims that were easily manipulated. “Roxas, have you read that book I told you about?” He was speaking of _The Giver_ , the only children’s book he’d ever recommend to hear him say it. He could be stuffy about his books, though I came to appreciate that later in life.

 

I shook my head. “I was going to start it yesterday, but Sora made me play Knights with him.”

 

Ansem laughed sagely once more. “You boys still play that game? I’m glad to hear it. Many children by your age are trying too hard to grow up. You should enjoy your youth while you have it.”

 

“We’ll play like this for the rest of our lives!” Sora interjected. “I’ll never put down my sword!”

 

“We shall see, young Sora. You still have much of your life to live. I suggest you live it well.” He was fond of platitudes. Even after being a literature professor for most of his life, Ansem could hardly figure out how to talk to children. It was almost funny.

 

He produced a sea-salt ice cream pop for us, and we exited the building. Sora hungrily took the first lick, unthinking. I let him, and waited until he had had quite a bit. His tongue running along the contours of the pop awakened a hunger in me, and I wanted my tongue to follow in his wake. And so I did.

 

After my lick, I gave it back to him, careful to hold it in such a way that he’d lick the same place. Then I took it and licked it. I hardly focus on where we were going or what Sora was looking at, I only wanted to savor each lick I took and look at his tongue, fully exposed to the air and sight, as it did its magic. When Sora switched sides, I would as well. But he wouldn’t always, and the knowledge that his tongue was where mine had been seconds before made me tingle. I needed to kiss him so bad.

 

Sora wasn’t capable of the single-minded focus I was. His eyes flited between this and that, now a house, and then a dog, soon after the walker. For elongated moments, half a minute perhaps, his eyes would be cast toward the sky, his gaze penetrating the beautiful clouds, orange in the sunset. The sky’s vastness could hold Sora’s gaze like little else. But even it was fleeting.

 

“You alright Roxas?” He asked. “You’re quiet, even for you.” He smiled, and a small giggle escaped his lips. It wasn’t a feminine giggle, however. Sora’s masculinity was subtle, but ever-present, a perpetual confidence that did not comprehend the judgement of others.

 

I tried to find an answer for him, but I could only stare mutely. His lips were so shapely and pink, and his skin reflected the color of the sunset in fringe. The image before me dominated my thought, and I could not summon an answer. He touched my shoulder, electrifying me. “Roxas, say something.” It was concern now.

 

 _Just say it. I want to kiss you, it’s not hard to say!_ But fortunately, in that moment before, just before, I said it, the world around me came into focus. We were walking up a slanted road that was packed with people. Sora was taking us to the platform outside the Train Station, to watch the sunset. I loved the sunset, and I loved watching it with him.

 

There were people within earshot of us, and in fact one woman was staring concerned at me. A mother, I knew. Mothers were all like that. “Fine.” I finally got out. “I’m fine. Just a little tired is all. I have a headache.” It was another lie. That was what, four or five today? I felt a moment of anguish.

 

Sora put his hand to my forehead, and I began to breathe heavily. What was this feeling? We had touched before, and I was just holding him in the theatre. Why was his touch so different now? Was it the concerned mother’s eyes boring into me, the invasion of another upon our moment? Was it the way that the light shone on Sora’s pale skin, or the way that his blue eyes gleamed? Or was I not lying at all, and was so sick I could not detect it?

 

“You don’t have a fever,” He decided. “But I still want to take you home.” No, that couldn’t be. Sora wanted to see the sunset, he was doing it for me I knew. Sunsets bored him after the first few moments but they could hold my attention for the duration, I couldn’t disappoint him.

 

“If you want to go,” I said, barely a whisper. “We don’t have to go back because of me.”

 

He took my hand and began to stride down the road. “Yes we do.” He said simply. He let me finish the ice cream. I tried to get him to have some more, but he said that I needed it more at that moment. I was so touched by the gesture that I stopped craving that wickedness.

 

By the time he got me home, I was sick with regret. It swirled in my stomach like a noxious fume and spread through my body. I breathed it out, but it was so thick that I only breathed it back in. By the time we reached home, I felt ready to throw up. My head was spinning.

 

Sora laid me down on my bed. “Just get some rest, Roxas. I know you like alone time, so I’ll go play Knights.” I knew he’d ruin the game, that he’d pull out his magic sword and shred the monsters to pieces. I couldn’t let him ruin the world we set up together.

 

Or at least, that’s what I told myself as I called out to him, “Sora. Don’t go.” His eyes were alive, and I felt sick all over again. But I wanted him in my bed with me. “Come lay with me.”

 

Sora had been reaching for my desk chair. But after a pause, and a flash of confusion on his face, he walked over to the bed as if nothing strange was going on, and he laid down. He lay on top of the covers, while he had cocooned me in them. But back then, that wasn’t my concern. It wasn’t his body that I wanted, it was his lips. I trembled in need of them, in fear of the request, and in regret for my methods.

 

“Roxas, you look so ill,” he cooed sympathetically. He brushed away a fallen spike of my hair as softly as Mom would. Sora didn’t know much about taking care of a sick person. He thought that Mother’s touch did more of the healing than the medicine. In that moment, I almost believed it too. I seized on that, didn’t I?

 

“Sora, can you-“ I couldn’t bring myself to say more. I stared wide eyed at him, fear becoming the dominating feeling radiating through my body.

 

“What do you need?” He asked, a soft caring washing over me. Like a gentle wave, it washed away the muddy fear and regret. I took a deep breath, and banished it from me. Whatever brought me to this place, I was here. And this was the moment.

 

“Sora, can you kiss me?” Without a moment’s hesitation, he moved to peck me on the cheek. “No.” He stopped, only now gazing at me with any confusion. “I want you to kiss me on the lips.”

 

Sora sat up. “Roxas, are you crazy?” I must have been, but that didn’t ease the stabbing pain I felt in my chest.

 

“I-I-“ I could only manage that vague stammer. I started to go numb, the intensity of feeling had been too much for me that day, and I could bear it no longer.

 

“Roxas, look at me,” He said with casual authority. “Why do you want that?”

 

I groped for a plausible reason and found nothing. I searched for a way out, a way to backpedal into the moment before I irrevocably changed our relationship. But all that made itself available was the truth. And that was better, I decided. “I love the way the sunset reflects off your skin.”

 

A change happened in Sora then. He suddenly looked disheveled, as if what I said had derailed him. I couldn’t understand it, as I barely understood myself. But at that moment, something clicked. “I feel it too.” And he saw me as if in a new light. His eyes were transparent that way. And I wondered, _if it’s a new light, why is it only now that it’s begun? Why is he feeling those feelings now of all times? Is it obligation?_ He lay down again, and asked, “What now?” And I never more appreciated his simplicity.

 

I leaned in toward him, and for a few heartbeats we simply held our faces close to one another. I breathed in his breath, and he mine. The air between us heated, and inflamed my need. My lips tingled, and unable to bear it longer, I reached in for my vindication.

 

Our lips met. His lips enclosed around my upper lip. I heard a wet, fleshy sound that I soon realized was the sound of a kiss. It wasn’t like in the movies, I thought, as I narrowly parted my mouth before closing it again. The sensation was otherworldly. Small waves of pleasure radiated from my lips to the rest of my body. My hands were moved by that sensation, and I cupped his cheek. He breathed in sharply, unsure, but I pressed in. He quickly relented, and pressed back. His hand then wrapped around my neck, and he pulled me in closer. With his free hand, he tugged the covers down, and then wrapped that hand around my torso.

 

I pulled back, and I looked him straight in the eye. “This is okay?”

 

“Are you happy with it?” I nodded. “Then yes.” He leaned in this time, and then I knew that it was alright. His lips felt so good on mine that any remaining doubts faded. And his lips tasted like Sea Salt Ice Cream.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas has finally kissed his beloved brother Sora, but they can't escape the prying eyes of their mother.

Chapter 2  
I had it from my mother, which was the worst part of all. “Sora asked me an interesting question.” I now knew where he had been all morning. I’d looked for him in all our usual spots among the trees, but couldn’t find him. I knew his habits better than he did, and was surprised to find that he wasn’t conforming to them.   
Now I knew he’d been in the one place I never looked; mother’s study. It had been years since I’d stepped foot in there, but every once in a while, as stupid and oblvious as he could be, Sora interrupted our mother’s work. It was only when he had good reason, even Sora must realize on some subconscious level that that was mother’s space, and I suppose my unique daring had sent him scampering behind mother’s skirts.   
“He asked me if it was okay if two brothers kissed. He told me it was about a friend,” She seemed skeptical, but that was feigned. The only thing I knew about my mother that stayed consistent is that the face she put forward was in some way false. And indeed, upon looking deeper, I saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. It was soft and elusive, but unmistakably present. She knew the veil she hid over it was thin, and yet just thick enough to prevent my reaching out and tearing it off.   
After a moment of stunned silence, I lamely spat out, “Family kisses all the time.” I realized my mistake at once; jumping to defense before there was a solid attack. My eyes must have shown it true, untrained as they were in real deception. Fooling Sora required no effort at all. Mother, on the other hand, had danced a red cloak in front of me, hiding the sword, and I had charged.   
Her sardonic look plunged into me, and like a poison spread through my body, neither immediately nor slowly, but at an even pace that built and built until I sat paralyzed and at her mercy. I felt like retching up the lunch I had half eaten.   
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but I will anyway. Whatever happened between you and your brother has him worked up. I know it wasn’t his idea.” I sat in wounded silence. “Roxas, there’s no problem if you want to kiss someone, even a boy. But your brother is off limits.” I tried to articulate a response, but she walked off in a huff.   
Once fear of punishment abated, all that was left was Sora. I found him where I knew he’d be, in my room, on my bed.   
He looked guilty, and guilt weighed on Sora like little else. I’d never seen him slouch before, I realized. Even his brows were heavy with grief. I knew what it was that was there. His guilt for kissing me, his guilt for going to mother, the feeling that he disappointed us both, and the grander, abstracted feeling that he had simply Betrayed.   
Mother’s poison was still in me, and my body slumped as well. It was not as uncommon for me, however, though this was worse than it was in the past. Much as I wanted to, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow my fault. How could it be? I wasn’t the one who ran to Mommy. And there wasn’t anything wrong with what we did.   
“Sora,” I said, realizing moments after that there was a catch of hurt in my voice. Were these tears I felt on my face? I rejected them, and did my best to regain composure. Sora’s mortified expression told me it wasn’t enough.   
“I-I’m sorry, Roxas,” He said, barely a whisper. “I didn’t think she’d get so mad.” But she did, she got mad enough to leave her seclusion to interfere with us. But she was gone now, and it was time for mending.   
I sat on my bed, next to my brother. I enveloped him in a crushing hug, insisting, despite his trying to pull away. I wanted to say, “I forgive you.” But what was there to forgive, and really, who needed the forgiving? It wasn’t him who had wronged me.  
Who was she!? She was in love with my father so she married him. I’m in love with Sora, aren’t I? I should kiss him, shouldn’t I? I should marry him if I damn well please, and won’t I? Sora touched my shoulder, and gave me a small shake. “Say something.”   
I looked at him, and saw the need there in his eyes. I knew what he needed. Our wooden swords were behind him on the bed. But I lacked the energy.   
“Roxas.”   
I tried to conjure something for him, but there was no making up for the lack, and I wouldn’t dare use filler. I only reached out and hugged him. He squeezed back, and smelled so strongly like Sora then that my lips tingled. I buried my face in his neck, and satisfied myself with contact, if not with an actual kiss.  
He broke away hastily, and I saw relief on his face. “Do you want to play knights?” He got up off the bed as if it was hot and shoved my sword at me.   
I shook my head. “I’m not in the mood, Sora.” He was so simple, knights was his solution to the world’s problems. It wasn’t enough, I knew, but still his disappointment hurt.   
“Can I at least sit with you?” He asked, worried that my refusal was of him and not of the game.   
I smiled at him, and replied, “Of course you can sit. Why wouldn’t you be able to?” He pulled out my homework desk chair and sat on it backwards, arms resting on the back. It was the sort of casual goofiness that I expected from him, and it made me laugh a little.   
There was a start in him that my laughter had stirred. It was so sudden that I couldn’t read it. “What is it, Sora?”   
He fidgeted sheepishly, and played with the spine of the chair. “Do you still-“ he finished the statement inaudibly, and blushed fiercely. I knew what it was he asked, but needed to hear it from him. I gave him a quizzical look, and he knew it wasn’t loud enough. “Doyoustillwanttokissme?”   
I nodded solemnly, throwing all care to the wind and cursing myself.  
“Well,” He started. “We can’t do it here. Mom might find us. But she never follows us into the woods-“ he trailed off.   
And that was where she found us not three days later, a ten minute walk from the house. Sora’s arms were around my neck, and mine around his waist. We lay on the ground, my back against a tree trunk and him laying on top of me. There was tongue (we had seen it in a movie that very day). Sora’s mouth tasted amazing, and the moans we elicited from one another sent swarms of butterflies around my body emanating from my turning stomach. It was flux and marvelous when she interrupted.   
“Boys,” came the disappointed voice. It wasn’t forceful, but it caused Sora to bolt upright and near jump off me.   
“M-mom,” he spluttered out. But her eyes weren’t for him, they were only for me, daggers of hurt. The faint amusement had gone, I had driven it away. And what lay underneath that hurt now was far beyond my 12 year old self. Even now, I only hazard at guesses.   
“Roxas.” A complete statement, she let it hang in the air. She searched for the words, and when she found them I was frankly underwhelmed. I couldn’t process the gravity of the situation. “Come with me now.”   
Sora looked at me helplessly, his pleading eyes asking what to do. I mustered a shake of the head, and wordlessly followed my mother.   
She led me back to the house and into her study. She sat me down in a fine leather chair, and wheeled her own chair away from the poetry on her desk to face me. She had rearranged, I realized, her desk faced the window now. The direct sunlight beaming behind her cast a shadow on her expressions, and though the room was bright she faced me in a sort of obscurity.   
She firmly grasped my shoulder, and squeezed. “Roxas, what you’re doing to him is wrong.”   
“I don’t know-“ I began my defense weakly.   
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You know where all of his buttons are and you press them. He’ll do anything you want him to do.” She was wrong. Sora’s will was his own, I only followed and suggested. He was such a marvelous figure, I couldn’t bear to change him any more than the world demanded.   
“I don’t press his buttons. He asked me to kiss him!”   
“And I suppose it was his idea to start with?” She had me, but I wouldn’t give up.   
“No! There’s not even anything wrong with it, why are you treating it like bloody murder?“ I shouted at her inelegantly, swinging my arms downward in a fit.   
“It’s my fault,” she ignored me. “I should have taught you better. But how could I have known?” She asked me, and I had no response. “What a situation you’ve created, Roxas.”   
We sat in silence as she contemplated my fate. I knew words were meaningless and couldn’t sway her. When mother formed an opinion, it was not easy to change it. And frankly, I lacked the energy.   
“I don’t want to separate you,” she decided. “Though the draw to that is strong.” My hopes were leaden then, and all the childish schemes I had to continue kissing Roxas were marred. “But I want you two to make friends in school. No more of this selective nonsense, just find friends and bring them home so I can meet them.”   
“I hate the other kids! They’re vile, and mean, and ugly! We aren’t friends with them for a reason!” Tears were streaming down my face. The thought, the mere notion of others pawing Sora with their dirty hands was enough to make me gag.   
“Roxas, there’s not need to descend into hysterics,” she chastised. She placed her hands on my shoulders and squeezed. I bit back my rage, and channeled it into my gaze.   
“Look at me any which way you want, you’re doing it, or I’ll separate the two of you. Do you understand?” I granted her the most grudging of nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Drop a comment if you enjoyed it.


	3. Chapter 3: Sexuality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sora and Roxas don't remain chaste boys forever.

Chapter 3: Sexuality

 

Now that mother knew, all seemed lost. It wasn’t just the lack that hurt me, it was that Sora was dangled in front of my eyes every day. I lay in fear of discovery for years, until I was sixteen. I felt like a beaten and starving dog who saw a morsel of meat being held inches above my reach. And yet my mother was trapped too, she wouldn’t move away from me, she wouldn’t stop placating me with pets and coos. I think she feared that if she stopped, I’d jump and tear the meat from her hands.

My sexuality, though lacking the object it most desired did not stop for anything. I discovered it not long after Sora was taken from me, and even now I curse my mother for taking those years away from us. I found solace and answers in my books, but I could tell that Sora had nowhere to turn. For a long time, he’d walk around erect, not knowing there was anything taboo about it. I had to have a considerable amount of restraint not to reach out and show him, but the fear of my mother’s diligent gaze staved me off.

Sora did come to me, however, when a boy at school mocked him in the locker room. “Like what you see? Must be a little faggot then!” The room had exploded with malicious mirth, I heard from a friend. But Sora wouldn’t tell me that. He only asked me how I could make it go away.

“Sora,” I hesitated, trying to find delicacy. “This is the kind of thing mother would yell at us for.” His eyes widened, as he began to fully comprehend just what it was that was he was feeling. It tickled me how little he knew.

“I-I won’t tell mom. Just show me how to get rid of it!” I waited until she was on one of her walks, one of the few that she took anymore, and locked my bedroom door for good measure. I had ready two old shirts of ours that no longer fit.

I took off my shirt and my shorts, discarding them in the hamper. Sora discarded his on the floor. He was already hard underneath his undershorts, and I wasn’t long in following. Images flashed in my mind of his cock in my mouth, and my ass, and for once I let myself be taken by the softness of his lips, the smoothness of his skin, and now the bulge in his undershorts. They were white and short, bearing all the whiteness of his usually hidden thighs. Their contrast to his tanned extremities and the subtle, natural transition from one to the other caught my breath. I noticed that his knees and elbows were burned. I took my undershorts off in a hurry, and watched as my cock hardened not in the slow build of my usual sexuality but a surprising quickness, a fluid motion. It was pleasure in itself.

“Mines bigger,” Sora said without superiority or relish; a mere observation. I realized he was just making small talk, and trying to delay his taking of his undershorts. He stood still, his gaze fixed on my nakedness with a hungry glint in his eyes, shaking and transfixed. I saw fear there too.

I decided to help. I slowly and gingerly began to slide his undershorts off. His hands grabbed my wrists immediately. He jerked his waist back, holding his ass out behind him and unwittingly driving my craving for him insane. His knees bent, and quickly I said, “Shh, shh. Calm down, Sora.”

“Letmedoit.” And so I did. Trepidation informing his every move, he took off his undershorts and discarded them. He was right, his was bigger. But I was excited to see that other than that, it was exactly as I had pictured it, exactly like mine. There was a satisfaction in knowing that my fantasies continued that bit of truth, and hope that perhaps they could contain that much more.

“What do I do with it? It never goes down!”

“Come lay with me on the bed,” I told him. Once laying, I grasped my cock in my hand. I wordlessly began to stroke it, and he followed suit.

He closed his eyes, and moaned rather loudly. I had learned at the first to keep quiet, for fear of discovery. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that, however. He started to stroke quickly, and I grabbed his wrist. “Not so fast, you’ll spoil the pleasure. Control yourself.” He nodded, and began again, slower and more deliberate.

I used my other hand to fondle my balls, “Do this-“ I said through gasps, “to extend your stamina.”

We were looking at each other, trying to burn the image into our minds. His gasps and moans vibrated through my being, and set my entire body on the edge of climax. I writhed, straining my legs and toes to try to process and fully experience the pleasure that his image brought me.

Abandoning all thought, I confused him when I took the middle finger of my left hand and thrust it into my ass. To do this, I thrust my pelvis up into the air. He followed suit, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. His pelvic bones were visible. His body was flushed a deep red, and a quick glance saw that his cheeks were blushing like I had never seen him blush. But hungry, my gaze was quickly redirected. And then his blended with mine, and we were one being. No matter where I looked, I felt and immense pull to him because it was all so _him_. I slid my hand out of my ass and touched myself all over, feeling my own pelvic bones and feeling my own heat. My hand rested on my chest, and I marveled at Sora’s beautiful heartbeat.

“Roxas, something is coming out.” I saw that precum was collecting on his tip. I saw also that he was playing with his balls then, trying to extend it as long as possible.

“That’s good Sora,” I encouraged, curing him of his fear. “More will come out, and you’ll feel better than you ever have. Let’s do it together.”

I returned my finger to my ass, and found my prostate. A yelp from Sora told me he had done the same (“That feels so good!”). And I began to stroke, and slide my finger in and out. I added another, to simulate better him inside of me, as we were both inside each other now.

I came inside Sora’s shirt, and he inside of mine.

We lay there panting for some time, then Sora said, “I wanted to touch you so bad. But, I’m so scared.” And image of Mom bursting in on us killed whatever drive I had left, and I quickly put my clothes back on. The sobering thought seemed to strike Sora too, as he was fully clothed when I looked up. We glanced at the old shirts on the bed, evidence of what we had done.

I took them into the kitchen, and put them in a plastic bag. I threw them out in the trash can out back, hoping Mom and Dad never looked too hard. Only after did the tension subside enough for us to speak.

“Mom can’t know,” Sora said. “And we can’t do that again.” I was relieved as he said both things, but there was, of course, a twinge of inescapable sadness.

“Yea…if Mom walks in on us again…” I left it unanswered. I did, however, hug him. There was nothing Mom could do about that. And, knowing that we were home alone, Sora kissed me chastely on the cheek. Now it was not my raging libido that twinged, but my chest. I placed a hand on one of his cheeks, and I kissed his lips.

“I love you Roxas.”

“I love you too, Sora.”

After that scene, I was very little satisfied with my usual self-pleasure. Once one has tasted the sweetest fruit, they could not return as easily to the local variety. I found various ways of simulating it, however. There was a small mirror on my wall. I would take that down, and position myself at various angles to simulate the image of Sora’s body. It was not perfect, my penis was too small and my skin too light. He was barely more muscular than myself, and I had better skin (though even this was a detriment to my pleasure). And yet for a time, it sufficed. Our hip bones, it would seem, were almost identical.

I would look at pictures of him that I had as well, though it was poor luck that so few were more revealing than his usual appearance. There weren’t even any of him at the beach or the pool, to my disappointment (though we went no less frequently than any normal family). I realized with a start that mother had begun to tyrannically control the camera around the time she found us, and must have anticipated this tactic of mine years before.

We did have our successes, though. Often we would linger in the upstairs hall at the end of the night. When Sora or I left the shower, we were sure to knock on the doors of one another. We pretended that it was only to let the other know the bathroom was free, but our eyes hungrily groped one another in those brief moments.

We also made more of an attempt to wear tight, form fitting clothes around the house. While most people wear loose, comfortable clothing at home, we wore these at school, a place where we didn’t care how we looked. It wasn’t until we got home that we donned the short shorts and the tank tops. We sat close to each other, and frequently hid out in our rooms, though for the most part we dared not actually do anything.

Mother found every excuse that she could to walk in on us, and most of the time it was amiable. After a while, I even grew tired of hating her, and I talked to her normally. She even seemed to let up once I started to do that.

But no matter what, Sora and I would not touch one another. When it was just the two of us home alone, we would experiment with various levels of undress, and even occasionally get the courage to once again masturbate in each other’s presence, though this was rare.

It was ultimately Sora who found the answer to this difficult situation. He had his first camera one year for Christmas, and it was only days later that he gave me an envelope with pictures of him in it.

“I couldn’t keep myself happy with just blonde porn stars online,” he said quickly, and in a hushed voice even though we were home alone. “I figured it must be the same to you. Come into my room when you’re home alone, and take pictures of yourself for me. There’s an SD card in here. Put it on the computer and print it. Then delete them all.”

I had been briefly surprised at how devious his plan seemed, but I quickly stopped caring when I saw the pictures he gave me. There was one of his butt, a few of his penis, a few full body (one of which featured him with his fingers in his ass), and one of his pelvic bones. I held that one up, “This is my favorite.”

He blushed, and said, “I hoped you’d like that. Be sure to take one of you like that.” He kissed me on the cheek, and scampered off like a scared animal.

I took the photos in his room, just like he asked, when nobody but me was home. I made sure my butt was prominently displayed in most of them, and took three close ups of it. Then, remembering his boldness, I took three more of me pleasuring myself through my ass. I made sure to hit my prostate, so that my bodily contortions and facial expressions were real. And finally, I took three of my pelvic bones, things that even I was now attracted to for their sheer similarities to Sora’s.

And as I held the camera full of sin in my hand, a powerful fear seized me. My mind played on repeat the sound of a knocking door, and the sound of the door’s hinges. My heart thrummed, and every fiber of my being screamed at me to delete those photos. But next thing I knew, they were printed and in my hand. And when Sora came home, I slipped them playfully, and dangerously into the back of his pants as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him full on the lips. The boy recoiled. He grabbed the envelope out of his pants, and ran upstairs.

I ran to my room, my desire fresh from the taste of Sora on my mouth. I took his pictures from their hiding place, inside of a binder I seldom used for school. I was too afraid of mother finding them in the room while cleaning, and so long as I was diligent in school, I could even have a peek unnoticed.

I took them out, and laid them on the bed in front of me. Another of Sora’s old shirts was in my hand, one of the many with knights on it. I stroked myself repeatedly, and bent over the bed as I plunged three fingers into my ass. My eyes were drawn to my favorite picture, the one of his pelvic bones, with his large cock prominently displayed. I heard him crying out from pleasure at the exact moment that I climaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for deeming my work worthy of your time. Don't forget to drop a comment if you loved it, or even if you hated it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Any comment that you leave would be lovely, and I'd greatly appreciate it. 
> 
> Fair warning, the rating of this story is subject to change. I have a vague notion of where the story is going to go, but I don't know all the steps it'll take in going there.


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